Learn It All Again Tomorrow
by lovethebroken
Summary: Liv, longtime friend of Sam and sister to Riley, is trusted with a daunting task...helping Bucky Barnes come back to life. (Avengers/Cap America Story) OC/Bucky. OC/Steve. OC/Sam. Rated M for safety reasons.
1. Chapter 1

**Hope you all enjoy.**

 **:::**

 _"What I've got I don't want_  
 _All it does is hover and taunt_  
 _Reminding me what I used to be_  
 _What I may never be again"_

-Ben Harper, Learn It All Again Tomorrow-

 **:::**

I can't begin to describe the feeling in the pit of my stomach as the large black plane settled onto the golden field behind the house. I stood perfectly still waiting for the _guests_ to exit the plane or Quinjet as Sam had called. It was a plane, very simple. I adjusted my sunglasses and glanced around as I uncrossed my arms and shoved my hands into my jean pockets. I licked my lips nervously. When Sam had called, I was shocked at the tale that he was reciting to me at an alarming speed. We had kept in touch over the years. We dated on and off before and even after my brother was killed…he had even stayed with my family and I at the ranch for a while when he came back for leave. When he had announced that he had taken a job at the VA in Washington DC- I felt like someone had punched me hard in the gut. I hadn't wanted him to leave because…well, in all honesty, he was the one thing, the one person that still had a personal connection to my brother besides family.

Sam waved before looking back at the small crew he had with him. I saw the tall, light brown haired man nod as he remained at the bottom of the ramp. Sam jogged toward me. His face was jovial, grin plastered to his face. He all but tackled me with a heavy hug, his arms held more muscle than I previously remembered. I gave a cheerful laugh as he pulled back and gave me a once over, "You look…"

"Like a farmer?" I glanced down at my jeans that had mud splattered on them. They were tucked into my red boots that I wore when I fed the animals. My t-shirt was an old high school t-shirt with large bleach stains on it. Maybe I should have changed. I began to feel self-conscious as I looked back up at him and my gaze slipped behind him to the tall handsome man and the dark figure that followed. Yep, should have changed.

"I was going to say rural."

"Sure."

He glanced back and two men were headed this way. The taller one, Captain America, was carrying a black duffel bag. The other, who Sam told me was called Bucky, was following shortly behind. His long hair was pulled back, a few dark strands where whipping in the breeze. This was him. This was the one that Sam wanted me to help. Help meaning, keeping him away from large cities, large groups named Hydra, and also, technology that could give the location of him away.

"Sometimes I wonder about you and your ideas," I said quietly to him. Sam looked back at me and he sighed before giving a curt nod.

"You helped me."

"You're the one that works at a VA clinic."

"We just need someone where he can lay low, get his thoughts gathered…not freak everyone out back at Avengers Headquarters."

I rolled my eyes and even though he couldn't see me, Sam shot me a look. Captain America smiled brightly as he held his hand out, "Steve Rogers, ma'am."

I smiled, "Olivia Riley."

"Sam has told me a great deal about you and your brother."

"Well," I looked at Sam then back at Steve, "Jonathan was a good man."

Steve nodded as a shadow of something passed over his face. He cleared his throat as he turned, "This is Bucky Barnes."

Bucky moved to stand beside Steve and I held out my hand, "Nice to meet you."

He hesitated, his right hand clenching and unclenching, before he blinked twice and took my hand softly. We shook and he never met my eyes, "Ma'am."

I looked down at my watch before shoving my hands back into my pockets, "Ya'll staying for dinner?"

 **:::::**

My dad, bless his heart, enjoyed war stories…too much. He was retired Military and had about a million war stories and battle scars. I think Steve was indulging him, but to be fair, my dad was a fan of Captain America when he was a teenager. I glanced at Bucky, who was sitting silently at the table, sipping his beer. Maybe he was listening…maybe he wasn't. Either way, I could tell he was trying to be polite.

Sam broke out in laughter, "No, no, no…tell the one…the one about…hell, what was his name? The one where he got his gun stuck in his shoe laces."

My dad's gray eyes light up and he gave a hearty laugh, "Murphy!"

Steve just grinned at the two before he met my eyes. I felt my cheeks go slightly pink and then I gathered the plates, "Yes, yes…Murphy Murdock….got his gun stuck in his shoelaces…shot his toes off- let's eat!"

Dad shook his head as he took the plate from me, "The dud shouldn't have been in the field. A bunch of us young, still kids really, thought we would go out there and just be invincible. Vietnam was a place where half of us…"

He paused before he swallowed thickly and then cleared his, "Liv, be a daisy and grab me the tabasco sauce."

He looked toward Steve as he leaned closer, "Used to call her mother that when she was still alive. She's just like her mother that one. Beautiful on the outside- spitfire on the inside."

Sam agreed with a mouthful of bread, "Amen to that."

"I love it when you all talk about me like I'm not here." I shot Sam a glare as I sat the sauce down beside my dad and he fished out a couple of fried eggs. Sam started at the other end with the steak and potatoes. I patted my dad's shoulder, "As you tell me quite often."

Dad smiled as he poured a generous amount of tabasco on his eggs, "She loves daisies too. Think a woman would prefer roses…no, my little Liv wants a weed."

I rolled my eyes, "They are not weeds. Besides they are happy flowers. A daisy can mean many things…I like you, have a great day, I'm thinking of you, I love you….roses are….just romantic, always the time."

I sat down beside Sam and glanced up at Steve. He met my eyes briefly before stabbing a steak with his fork. Bucky was quietly digging into his food beside him. Sam moaned, "Mmm…I forgot how you cook."

I smiled at him as I peppered my eggs heavily, "Well…I'm pretty sure they don't serve _my_ kind of country at those fancy DC restaurants."

Sam smirked at me and laced his voice with something that I hadn't heard in a long time…flirtation, "No, they don't."

Dad pointed his fork in our direction and began speaking to no one in particular, "They used to 'hook up' as the teenagers call it. Wouldn't find them for days sometimes."

I heard sputters around the table. My eyes grew at the statement, "Dad!"

Steve coughed a bit and took a large gulp of his water. Bucky paused, his eyes cast downward, but he looked like he was smirking. Steve cleared his throat, his cheeks were red.

"Til Johnny kicked your ass," dad continued. Sam was chewing his bottom lip then and he nodded. A gleam in his eye. He must have been relishing in the memory. As if getting a black eye and busted lip were a pleasant thing to recall.

"I-I told him that nothing could stop me from dating Liv and he wasn't gonna stop me." Sam grabbed the salt. The table was quiet. Bucky was the one that surprised us all when he spoke up.

"What did?"

I snorted, "A busty little blonde waitress named Tonya."

Dad laughed at the memory, "Then Johnny kicked his ass again."

 **::::**

I took a long sip of the bottle of beer as I watched my dad and Bucky play checkers. I smirked. Dad always had a way with people. He could always tell what they needed…whether it be a beer, an ear to talk to, or…something as simple as playing checkers. He used to play checkers and cards a lot with the fellas in his squad.

The screen door flapped against the house as Steve stepped onto the porch. He smiled warmly and turned to lean against the railing beside me, "Your dad seems really good with him."

"Dad had a rage problem when he came back. I think he probably finds a kindred spirit with him."

Steve simply nodded in return. I wondered idly if he had the same problem. He seemed _too_ put together. Like he was holding on to this sense of perfectionism in order to maintain the Captain America front.

"This is a nice place you and your dad have," he commented politely.

I beamed at Steve before looking back over the view of the sunset. Memories of Jonathan and me racing horses, climbing trees, swimming in the creek out back flittered into my mind. I nodded, "I used to not feel that way. I turned eighteen…couldn't get out of this town quick enough. Jonathan was already enlisted and gone. Dad and I …well, we didn't really see eye to eye. So, I left. Got my degree in Nursing in New York…had a wonderful job…a fiancé at one point…everything _was_ great."

Steve remained silent as I fiddled with the label on the bottle. I shrugged, "It turned out to be everything that I thought I wanted….but really ended up being distractions, you know?" I looked at him…really looked at him. He looked away quickly. I had the feeling he knew exactly what I meant.

"Yea...feels more like you _have_ to," he answered vaguely.

"My mom wanted a big future for us. Dad," I shrugged and looked back through the window at my dad and Bucky playing checkers. "He wanted _this_ for us."

"You're happy though?" His bright blue eyes searching my face for an unspoken truth. I smiled slightly and shrugged.

"I'm not _unhappy_."

Moments passed between us in silence. The crickets and bull frogs sounding off in the night. The stars were beginning to make their way out. The breeze was blowing, a tinge of something wild and fragrant danced in the night air. It was beautiful, peaceful…I heard him swallow, "I…I want to thank you. For doing this…for helping Bucky."

I flashed a smile and twisted around, gazing at the colorful sunset that was about to disappear behind the mountains, "When on leave, my brother had PTSD really bad. Sam too….they would just come here and try to relax. They rode horses, mended fence, bailed hay….they needed something to do. Something to take their minds off the fact that they didn't have a mission or didn't have orders anymore."

Steve looked down, his eyes were glossy in the dim porch light. I don't think I was supposed to catch it, but I did. I could tell that this whole situation was difficult for him. Sam mentioned that Steve felt responsible enough for this man. The fact that he couldn't help his best friend was killing him inside. His voice sounded thick as he spoke, "Most of us need a direction."

I cocked my head slightly, "Sure you don't need to stay too?"

He met my eyes and his face held a tiny ghost of a smirk. He looked hopeful almost, "Do you think I need to?"

"Does Captain America have vacation days set aside?" I quipped.

He have a short laugh, "Never had a reason to ask."

I looked down and sighed heavily, "Honestly Steve…I don't know how much I can help him. Sam gave me the rundown of everything that happened to him." I looked back at the two man playing checkers and saw back smile briefly, but it was gone again within seconds. "Any man would be broken after that."

"Buck is one of the strongest men I've ever known. He's a fighter. He just needs to remember that."

Sam came through the door and held out a phone to Steve, "It's Nat."

Steve nodded and gave a nod before taking the phone. He walked off the porch, "Yea."

I studied the man before turning my attention to Sam. He gave a chuckle, "Oh boy."

I shoved his arm, "What?"

"You and Cap. It's…cute."

"Cute?"

"Disgustingly."

"You had your chance." Sam laughed as he looked down at his feet.

"Yea…I didn't tell Steve about us. That was one thing I left out of my story, I guess. It's…a tough conversation to have sometimes…for me it is."

"We're still friends though," I nudged his arm playfully. Sam, despite our rocky past, was truly my best friend.

Sam's dark eyes beamed at me. He always did have pretty eyes. He replied assuredly, "Through it all."

I studied the pair, once again, through the window. Bucky was smiling and he actually held it for longer this time before his left hand twitched and it was gone. This was going to be hard. I sighed heavily and crossed my arms. My dad's eyes were squinted, laughter spilling from his lips. Bucky shook his head and took another move. His left hand, his metal arm, glistened in the low level lighting of the living room. How was I supposed to help this guy? He was a famed assassin. Over a dozen kills…zero discovery…zero trace. Here he was. Playing friggin' checkers with my dad.

"It will be okay."

I exhaled heavily at Sam's comfort, "I'm not a therapist."

"I don't think he needs a therapist. I think he needs someone who is detached from his situation. Someone who isn't telling him who he is…or who he was. He's a different man from 1945. He may be Bucky Barnes…but he may not be the Bucky Barnes. And you get that."

I met Sam's eyes. Steve trudged heavily up the stairs, "Nat needs us back. We go a new lead on a rogue Hydra base. Possibly more Enhancements."

Sam and Steve's gaze landed back on me, "How long until ya'll come back?"

Steve's eyes drifted to Bucky sadly, "I'll come visit in a week."

Sam nodded in agreement. Sam shoved off of the porch railing and headed back inside leaving Steve and me alone. Steve studied Bucky and shoved his hand into his pockets, "Thank you, again…for this."

"Don't thank me yet," I replied dejectedly.

 **::::**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything, characters or/and story lines related directly to Marvel/Comics.**

 **Original chararcters are mine (no touchy).**


	2. Chapter 2

_**AN: Thank you all for reading and reviewing! Hope you are all enjoying this story. If you get a chance…check out, The Slow Burn (steve/oc and clint/oc). It is on hiatus right now…but it's a great read- or so I've been told.**_

 ** _–wink-_**

 ** _On with the show!_**

 **::::**

I gnawed on my lip until I could taste blood. The omniscient _Winter Soldier_ was walking behind me, not making a freaking sound. Here I was tromping through rocks on the driveway and it was like he wasn't even there. I blew out a breath as we neared the small cabin that was reserved for workers when they had to stay. Well, it used to be Jonathan's house and we turned it into a bunkhouse for visitors. Dad didn't even call it Jonathan's anymore. He deemed it the bunkhouse slash guest house and was done with it.

"Did you enjoy your dinner?" I decided to make conversation with him. We were kind of stuck together for a while anyways. I slowed my pace so that we were walking side by side. He seemed to hesitate and then fell in beside me. I held the flashlight on the ground in front of us. I had walked this path numerous times and could probably do it in my sleep, but I was trying to keep us away from the cow patties.

"It was good."

I waited for more and nothing came. "Well, you have a small kitchen in here, but you are welcome to eat meals with us. If you'd like."

Nothing.

"Dad and I usually don't miss our breakfast or dinner together. Lunch is kind of a do it yourself thing." I gave a small laugh, "You'll learn dad is…very punctual."

"What do I call him?"

"Hm?"

"Your father. What do I call him? He said not to call him Sir."

"Oh, um, well…you can call him Frank. Mr. Riley does sound formal."

He stopped talking again when we reached the porch of the tiny cabin. He was far enough away from our house for the sake of privacy, but close enough in case something happened. We climbed the stairs of the porch and I fumbled with the keys and the flashlight for a second before Bucky took the flashlight from me and held the light out so I could see. He adjusted his duffel just slightly. I gave a small smile, "Thanks."

He simply nodded. I opened the door and flipped the light on. It was a very simple layout. Upon entering, you were automatically in the great room and dining room. The kitchen was in the far right corner. The bedroom was off to the left in another room which held the bathroom too. I walked through the house turning on a few lamps.

"Um, it's not much. The couch in here pulls out into a bed if you don't feel comfortable in the bedroom…which…..should have clean sheets on it." I flipped on the light to the bedroom, "Bedroom is here, bathroom is just right inside. Towels and stuff. I'm pretty sure there is some shampoo under the sink. Closet has hangers, extra blankets, pillows…"

I turned and he was setting his bag on the couch, surveying the area. I licked my lips and let out a sigh as I put the keys on the table, "I think there is bottles of water in the fridge…some food is in the pantry. I'd be sure to check the dates though. Tomorrow- if you want, we can get you some food to stock the cabinets and fridge."

"Okay."

Conversations with him were like conversing with a brick wall. We stood in silence for a moment and he finally moved toward the kitchen and opened the fridge. Thank my stars there was water in there. Maybe he would start trusting me now…perhaps open up and say more than two words at a time. I nodded and click my tongue, "Okay then. I'm just gonna head on back. If you need anything….you know where to find me."

I cleared my throat and frankly, the awkward feeling in my chest as I spun around toward the door. This was going to be a lot harder than Sam and Steve anticipated. He didn't want to talk, he was barely there mentally as it was.

"Olivia."

I snapped my back toward him and he was standing directly behind about less than a foot. Holy hell, guy was a friggin' ninja. He held the flashlight out to me. I shifted my eyes from him to hand as I took the light. I smiled softly, "Thank you. Sleep tight Bucky."

With that I left, the screen door to the cabin bounced and gave a hard 'whack' that stung through the night. I picked up my pace as I flipped the light on. I glanced back and he was still watching me. He quickly closed the door and I let out a breath, "Holy crap…"

 **:::**

The morning didn't come easy for me. I tossed and turned all night. Dreams of a black figure lurking through the shadows haunted me. Deep sleep was constantly being interrupted as I sat straight up in bed, chest heaving, heart beating a million miles per hour, mouth dry. I even ventured to the window at one point and saw that the lights were on in the cabin still. That was at 3am.

I rubbed the back of my neck as I padded my way down the stairs at 6am. I wasn't sleeping anyways, so I just went ahead and got up, got ready for the day. Dad was still sleeping, he usually wasn't up and moving until about 7:15. He wasn't the early to bed slash early to rise farmer people talked about. I passed by the window and happened to look out. I about jumped out of my skin. Bucky was sitting on the front porch steps. He was dressed in new clothes, a gray shirt and dark jeans, his hair was back in a ponytail. A bottle of water sat beside him. He was just gazing out into nothing…well, maybe not nothing- the cows were out there.

I honestly didn't expect him here this early. I looked down at my short pink cheerleading shorts and my black tank. I chewed on my lip for a second trying to decide if I should go change or not. I shook my head and ran a hand over my brown wavy hair that was still half wet from my shower. I unlocked the front door and opened it slowly. Bucky stood up instantly, his eyes roamed over me and then he looked down as he grabbed his water. He cleared his throat, "I'm sorry. I was…I couldn't sleep. I took a walk and…"

"You want a cup of coffee?"

"Yes." He said as he climbed the stairs to the door. "I would like that."

I smiled and stepped back for him to enter. I shut the door behind him and headed toward the kitchen. I looked behind me, on my tail he was, but silent. Good grief, freaking ninja. "You don't make noise when you walk, do you?"

I gave a small laugh and he looked confused. "I've never noticed."

"We need to work on your sarcasm." I turned on the coffee pot and pulled down two mugs. He slid onto the stool at the bar and watched me move around the kitchen. "Cream? Sugar?"

"Black."

"Gotcha."

"How…how did you sleep?" The uncertainty in his voice was evident, but he was trying to make conversation. I shrugged. I didn't want him to know about my dreams. They freaked me out enough and made me nervous. I didn't want him to think I was leery of him in any way.

"I'm a toss and turn kind of girl." I leaned against the bar and crossed my arms, "How about you? Like your new digs?"

"Um…it's nice. Quiet. I'm sure that the element of surprise would be hard to achieve here."

I nodded, "That's good to know. If we had to catch a peepin' tom around here."

"You have those?" He studied me closely. I let out a small hum as I considered the possibility.

"I had an ex-boyfriend who would probably fit that profile." I shoved off of the bar and poured two cups of coffee. I handed him his cup and then turned back to mine. I enjoyed a bit of coffee with my creamer. He took a sip of the coffee and then put it back down slowly.

"Steve told me that I needed to start talking more." He said out of the blue. I slid onto the stood next to him. He tensed at first and then relaxed. His light blue eyes flickered over to me and he opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again, "I…I don't know what to say."

Steve didn't need to push him, but I could understand where he was coming from. "Well, what's the first thing that comes to your mind."

He looked down and then shook his head, "I don't…"

"Anything. Just say it."

"Your coffee sucks."

I felt my eyes go wide for a second as the shock set in. He looked scared for a moment and then I burst out laughing, "Oh my god….really? Oh geez…"

He smirked as his eyes roamed over my face, "The stuff we had in camp was similar."

"Oh wow. Now I'm embarrassed," I covered my face as I felt my cheeks redden.

"You should be." His smirk grew to a grin. It fit his face perfectly. For a moment, I saw Bucky Barnes, best friend of Steve Rogers. It began to slip off his face, but he just held a smirk.

"I take it back…your sarcasm if spot on." I laughed and ran a hand through my hair. I shook my head, "You aren't wrong…I can't make coffee. I try."

"How was that?"

"That's good. That's very good. I would have led with a compliment, but hey…I can work with sarcasm."

"A compliment?"

I grimaced when I took a sip of the coffee. Ugh. Well, he wasn't lying. I nodded, "Yea. Like, um, I would say…you have very nice arms. Very muscly."

Something flashed over his face quickly. His eyes drifted down to his left arm, fingers flexed, and he made a fist. _Oh…_ I opened my mouth and shook my head, "Gosh Bucky…I'm sorry…I wasn't thinking…"

"Your eyes…your eyes are pretty. They look like emeralds."

I stilled at the compliment that he gave. He watched me for a reaction. I sat straighter and cleared my throat, "Thank you. That's very sweet."

He stood up suddenly. I jumped back in surprise and the stool wobbled. His left hand shot out and grabbed my upper arm. I gasped, not only in shock, but also pain. He grabbed a bit too hard. He jerked his hand away as if I was on fire and backed away, "I…I-I need to go."

"Oh, um, okay…where are…"

"Outside. I'm going outside!" I didn't recognize the look in his eyes, but I knew it wasn't a good one. He let out a hard breath through his nose, jerked the front door open and stomped down the stairs. He was almost a dead run. I let out the breath I'd been holding and I heard dad's footsteps on the stairs. Bucky must have woken him up.

"What's going on?"

Dad rushed into the kitchen. His eyes were frantic as he searched for a threat of some sort. I rubbed my arm absentmindedly, "Bucky…he had…a moment."

"You okay?"

I shrugged, "Just pushed a bit too early, I guess."

Dad sighed, "Well…that'd make sense. You did that with Johnny when he came back. Ya did the exact thing with Sam after Johnny was killed. Maybe give the kid more than just a day to breathe before you go all mother hen."

I just stared at my dad, mouth slightly agape, not knowing what words to use in order to form a coherent sentence. _This_ ….this right _here_ ….was the exact reason I left this town to begin with _. Him_. I shook my head. I was just trying to help and amazingly enough, it was going _wonderful_ with Bucky.

I stood up and let out a frustrated sigh as I practically ran toward the stairs. "You going back to bed?"

I rolled my eyes at that. He still had it in his mind that I was a teenager with my teenager mood swings that used to lock herself in her room for hours at a time. No, now I either went to work, worked on the farm, or moved states away, "I'm going to go put on clothes…I have animals to feed."

"You coming back to make breakfast?" He called as I rounded the top of the stairs. I was almost certain he was joking, but I couldn't tell in my angered state.

I growled out, "Fix your own damn breakfast!"

 **::::**

 **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY MARVEL MOVIE/COMIC VERSE OR CHARACTERS. I DO, HOWEVER, OWN MY ORIGINAL CHARACTERS (NO TOUCHY).**


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